


The Serpent and The Hound

by Ira_Frost



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff, Assassins, Bittersweet, Developing Relationship, Double Lives, M/M, Non-Chronological, Oral Sex, Tragedy, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-05-13 10:26:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5704279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ira_Frost/pseuds/Ira_Frost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The life of an assassin does not allow the dangerous luxuries of friendship and love. But the threads of fate are not subject to the whims of mortals, and sometimes, the price for happiness must be paid in blood.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Nys Veraci, street rat turned nobleman and skilled assassin for the Order of the Silver Serpent, is used to the emotional isolation that his duty demands. Halen Tanae, cousin and adviser to the king of Berendra, is resigned to the empty, frivolous life at Court. A chance meeting between the two should have never been anything more than that, but some things are just destined to be, for better or for worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning Of The End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [verybadidea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/verybadidea/gifts).



> Written for the other half of my soul, Vic [[lactobacille](http://lactobacille.tumblr.com/)], who keeps me sane (mostly) and happy. It was her birthday present, though I only managed to get the first chapter done in time. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Nys Veraci stood at the center of the large circular room, still as stone and just as silent. The dark hood that covered most of his face denied him view of anything except the smooth marble floor but his trained ears easily picked up the soft sound of a door opening and closing. His heart sped up ever so slightly with the blend of reverence and anticipation that had not diminished even slightly since the first time he had been in this position.

“Son,” Her voice was low and gravelly with age but there was no mistaking the power and authority that saturated her words.

Nys pushed away his hood, the greeting the only permission required, and bowed his head in deference at the small figure standing a few paces in front of him. She was clothed in a full-length, hooded cloak much like his own though it was as white as fresh snow whereas his was a murky black, indicative of their respective roles.

“Mother,” he greeted, a hint of affection audible underneath the careful neutrality of his tone. They were not mother and son, not truly. Mother, or Father in case of men, was simply what the head of the Order was called. The other members were all sons and daughters to them. But nevertheless, Lady Kilana Lynrwen, indomitable leader of the Order of the Silver Serpent since long before Nys was initiated, was the closest thing to a mother he had.

“It has been far too long since I have seen you, Nys,” she said with some warmth. Her mouth, which was all Nys could see of her face, was tilted in the faintest of smiles.

“You are a busy lady, Mother.”    

“Indeed I am. I can still regret not being able to see my favored son outside of these somber walls, can I not?”

Nys ducked his head, biting back a smile. Outsiders would never understand why he was so content with what he did, what he was, but this was all he had ever wanted. Acceptance and affection. Staining his soul with the blood of his country’s enemies was a small price to pay for that privilege. Unbidden, an image flashed in his mind, of jewel green eyes and a sweetly shy smile, but he ruthlessly pushed it back and shut it away. It was unwise of think of that now, here.

“Alas we are here for something rather more serious than idle chat,” Mother added and Nys instinctively smoothed his expression into blankness, straightening into an attentive stance. “I’m sure you know of Lord Halen Tanae. He is quite a hard man to miss, after all.”

It was very nearly funny, how the world could break and shatter in a single instant. Nys’s blood turned to ice, leaving him feeling frozen and empty. Darkness hovered at the edges of his vision. The image from before reappeared. Kind eyes staring into his, lush lips uttering Nys’s name with such tenderness that it was often painful to hear.

By some miracle- or perhaps it was over a decade of practice that saved him- his face remained impassive. He heard himself speak as if from a great distance. The words sounded like the echoes of echoes to his ears.

“Lord Halen Tanae. First cousin and Chief Adviser to His Majesty Rana Feirn.” _My lover_. Halen had been made Chief Adviser barely week ago. Nys had been so proud of Halen, so happy for him. He could recall with stunning clarity the way Halen had smiled, shining like a sun with pride and joy, as he had told the news to Nys before anyone else.

A scream crawled up his in his throat, fluttered like a dying bird and finally sank back down, driving sharp stakes into his chest as it did. He almost missed Mother’s next words.

“…only observe. We are quite certain he is no traitor but he is a careful, inquisitive man who far too smart for his own good. Somehow he has heard rumors about the Order and is being inconveniently persistent about matters. He has found nothing concrete, of course, but it would be prudent to keep an eye on him. We cannot have one of the king’s men discovering us.”

The relief of knowing that Halen was not treasonous was barely there; Nys would never have believed that anyway and the Order’s interest could be as harmful to patriots as to traitors. There was no need to actually say what was to be done if Halen actually succeeded in finding something. He would be assassinated. It was not even an option to have one so obviously loyal to the king discover the Order, which served Berendra and _only_ Berendra. It was the nation and its interests that they held sacred. More than one monarch had been killed when the Order decreed their reign as detrimental to Berendra’s welfare.

Nys had always admired the absolute neutrality of the Order, the way it was remarkably free of corruption. He had never once objected even mildly to the ruthless efficiency with which it functioned.

Except now. When it was the life of the man he had been foolish enough to fall for on the line. And Nys was certain that if the time came, he’d be tasked with the assassination itself.

On his finger, a ring etched with an insignia not his own _burned_.

“What do you need me to do, Mother?” No indication of his inner conflict showed in his voice.

“Befriend him. Make him trust you. I believe you to know how to best approach the matter,” There was a proud smile accompanying the words but instead of pleasing him like before, it only served to add to his turmoil. “No matter how hard Lord Tanae tries, he will not find it easy to chase those rumors. You will not lack for time.”

Nys could only nod in acquiescence.

“That is all for now, son. You may leave.”

He needed no further prompting. He sketched a deep bow and turned to leave but could only take a few steps before pausing as his name was called. He looked back over his shoulder. Mother was still standing at the same spot but her hood was down now, revealing steel gray hair wound in a tight bun and brilliant blue eyes that only grew sharper with age.

“I know it is not easy to have the Chief Adviser himself as your target. And if all goes well, there should be no need to take drastic measures. But do not fret, my son, for I have full faith in your capabilities.”

Nys forced a smile to his lips, dredging up memories of pride and pleasure at the fulfillment of his duties to lend a measure of authenticity to it. Then he made himself walk calmly and slowly out of the room, all the while fighting the urge to fall to his knees and shout his rage at the gods.

It was night outside, the sky dark and starless. In his dark cloak, Nys easily blended into the shadows. Sheer paranoia made him take the longest path possible to his destination, always watching his back and winding his way through secluded alleys, one hand idly resting on the hilt of his knife. Perhaps it would have been more sensible, surely safer, to go to his own house. But the meeting with Mother had unnerved him. He needed to see Halen, touch him, hold him and assure himself that his partner was safe and alive.

As for what would come afterwards… well, he would deal with that then.

It was almost an hour later that he scaled the wall of Halen’s home, the action a familiar routine by now. It had been a mutual decision to keep their relationship secret. While there was no stigma on relations between two men, or two women for that matter, there was no place like the Court for gossip and scandal, and being the king’s cousin and adviser made Halen a prime target. Nys, for his part, had wanted no exposure for their relationship. His time with the Order had turned him into many things, paranoid being the chief most of them. He had wanted Halen to be safe from any danger that might come seeking Nys and it had been easy enough to convince Halen that secrecy would be the best course.

Their discretion proved to be a blessing now because while Mother may have assigned him to Halen regardless, she would have been purposefully looking for any sign of distress. Any sign of _weakness_. And she may just have found it. That would have put them both in certain peril.

His wariness did not abate until he was standing before the door to Halen’s chambers. Nys opened the door with his copy of the key and slipped inside, closing the door behind quietly. In spite of everything, a smile tugged at his lips when he caught sight of Halen splayed atop the covers, bare-chested and breathtakingly beautiful in the light of the lamp. A book lay beside the light. He had clearly not meant to fall asleep.

Nys crept towards the bed, pausing only to blow out the lamp, before crawling in beside his lover, nestling happily against his warm body. Unsurprisingly, Halen woke at the touch, grumbling incoherently and opening his eyes halfway. Nys breathed out a laugh as searching hands sought out his body, pulling him flush against Halen’s slighter form. They needed no light to recognize each other, not after all this time.

But how much longer did they have?

The disturbing thought brought with it a flare of panic and Nys found himself surging into a rough, clumsy kiss, full of fear and desperation. Halen, still too ensnared in the arms of sleep, welcomed him with disarming pliancy. Tears welled in Nys’s eyes and he shut them tight, easing his frantic assault into something gentler. He cupped the back of Halen’s head with one hand and stroked his cheek with the other. Their mouths moved lazily together, wet lips searching, tongue tips brushing and prodding. There was no urgency to it, just love and comfort.

He heard Halen sigh when they parted, a sleepy, happy sound. Nys pressed his face to Halen’s hair, rubbing his cheek against the feathery strands.

“Glad you’re here. Wasn’t expecting…” Halen mumbled, the words slurring at the end. The man may wake easily but he did not remain awake with any grace. Nys didn’t respond, choosing to simply hold Halen, listening to his breaths get longer and calmer until he was soundly asleep once again. He burrowed into Nys, warm and trusting in his arms. The same arms that had stroked, caressed and worshipped the man they now held like a treasure numerous times. The same arms that might be destined to become stained with his blood.

Nys let out a helpless whimper, terror rising thick and bitter up his throat. Tears spilled from his eyes and wetted his cheeks.

He hadn’t expected this, not once. It was indeed a risk to take a lover, riskier still to fall in love as deeply and hopelessly as he had, but Halen was supposed to be _safe_ from the Order. They were on the same side. The Order’s supreme duty was to serve and protect Berendra. And Nys knew more than any other how devoted Halen was to Berendra and her King. This was not supposed to happen.

But it had and Nys might be made to choose and gods only knew what he would do. In the past, it would have been an easy choice. He owed his life to the Order. They had saved him, one of the many street urchins littering the slums of the Capital, given him a family and more importantly, a life that did not involve petty thieving, whoring and an eventual, inevitable death as another of the forgotten bodies that garnered no more than a pitiful glance or derisive words. His loyalty and his service were all he had to give in return and he had done so happily and wholeheartedly.

The Order had firmly remained the most important thing in his life… until he was ensnared by the glittering green of eyes that gazed upon him first with compassion, then affection and then unparalleled adoration. How was he supposed to watch those same eyes fill with death and live with the knowledge that it was his doing?

With soft noise of pain, he buried his face in Halen’s hair, breathing him in deep as if to use the familiar, comforting scent to chase away all thought.

_Forgive me._

†

_You don’t know me, at least not all of me. It’s not your fault. After all, I’ve always been a good liar- I had to be, to survive. But know this; the man you see, the man you love… he is the man I am when all the layers and lies are stripped away. And he is the only part of me_ worth _knowing._

†

 

The Royal Court only seemed to get more and more tedious with each passing year.

Nys generally preferred to stay far, far away from the place. Discretion was paramount in his line of work and prancing around the palace like an overdressed peacock was not quite conductive to that. Especially not when he had been the object of much speculation and curiosity ever since his father had caused a scandal by adopting an orphan street boy and making him heir. Blue-blooded nobles rarely associated with what they derisively dubbed street trash, let alone make them family. But then Lorai Rynn had never been your typical snotty noble. Adopting Nys was hardly the most preposterous thing he had done in his life. Alas, court was still a veritable minefield for Nys and when he was forced to come here, he tended to spend his time skulking in the background, observing others.

That was, after all, the only reason his father ever made him attend and why Nys rarely fought the instruction. Watch, observe, learn. You could discover such useful things about people without them ever knowing.

But he could only take so much before he had to flee for the sake of his own sanity.

Nys picked his way through the garden with an eye out for other people as well as potential dangers. Paranoia seemed to be another thing he had acquired in his less than idyllic life. It was with a sigh of relief that he stepped into the maze that dominated most of this particular garden. It was a massive, complex network of meticulously trimmed hedges with an apparently unending array of dead ends. It had been mere curiosity, and boredom, that drew Nys to it the first time he’d been here. It had not taken him more than a few tries to find his way to the heart of it. Years spent memorizing maps and house-plans had made it relatively easy to retrace his path later on.

Eventually, the heart of the maze had become his favored hideaway while at the palace. It held a fountain, a stone bench and a thick grove of trees. It was one of the most pleasant places Nys had ever seen, so perfectly isolated from the din of the rest of the place that it felt like part of an entirely different world. During his infrequent visits during the last nine years, he had not ever encountered another soul there.

Nys grinned in relief when he took a sharp turn that led him to his destination, only to come to an abrupt halt at the sight that greeted him. A man was seated on the bench with his back to Nys, dressed in clothing that screamed of wealth and status. His smile faded as fast as it had come.

He supposed it was quite irrational to get possessive of a public space and really, he didn’t care what happened here while he was elsewhere. But right then, he had to forcibly clamp his jaw shut just so he wouldn’t blurt out something ridiculous like, _This place is mine._

The stranger, a noble surely, had yet to see him and though it frustrated Nys to be robbed of his sanctuary, slinking back into his room was better than sharing this space with another. He took a single step back, slow and silent, but the other man chose that precise moment to turn. Perhaps he had sensed the eyes glaring at his back. Nys automatically ran his eyes over the profile presented to him, attempting to put a name to the face. Bright green eyes stared inquisitively from a pale, sharp featured visage framed with straight black hair grown a little longer than was currently fashionable. He was perhaps in his thirties, lean and soft in that way most nobles were. It was easy to identify him; it would have been easy even if Nys had not spent weeks memorizing every major and minor noble house and their members.

Halen Tanae, adviser to the king and more importantly, his cousin. He was of royal descent.

Nys held back a grimace and bowed his head instead, just a little dip of his chin. “Lord Tanae.”

He did not know much about this man except that was a rather private person. His loyalty to the king was widely known and praised. Still, he had come to expect either indifference or a blend of curiosity and disdain from all nobles. And while he couldn’t know for certain whether Lord Tanae knew of Nys, it was reasonable to assume that he did. Scandals and the ensuing rumors had an unfortunate tendency to spread like wildfire.

Tanae gave him a polite little smile as he nodded in acknowledgement and then said, “I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name yet I do not know yours.”

“Everyone knows your name, my lord,” Nys replied before he could stop himself and saw the other blink in surprise, taken aback by Nys’s short tone. He cursed himself. He usually had better self-control than this but by the gods, he was irritable this evening. His Majesty’s cousin and an important court official was not the person to take it out on though.

“You are quite a prominent figure, Lord Tanae,” he added in a softer tone. “My name is Nys Veraci.”

And there it was, that flicker of recognition. Nys loathed it.

He braced himself for that little smile to disappear and be replaced with something entirely different. At least he could leave then. But the smile only grew, a little wider and a lot warmer.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Veraci.” Nys just stared at him.

“Likewise,” he murmured distractedly, shifting uncomfortably. Well, that was significantly more pleasing than the usual scornful interest. Now all he had to do was leave before things got awkward. Small talk was never _not_ awkward. But Tanae surprised him once again.

“I assume you came here seeking peace and solitude?” He didn’t give Nys a chance to respond before adding, “I know I did.”

“Then I shall leave you to it,” Nys quickly replied, seizing the opening. “My apologies for intruding.” Perhaps he could sneak into his room unseen and chase that elusive thing called sleep. But in what was becoming the pattern, he was thwarted.

“You could join me. There’s more than enough space for us both.” The offer was accompanied by a lopsided little smile that softened Tanae’s face, adding an odd sort of charm his countenance.

It would be wise to decline. Human company very rarely agreed with him, targets and lovers aside. And since the former ended up dead and the latter were only ever a night of purely physical pleasure, he didn’t believe they counted. But he was… curious. He had caught glimpses of the adviser a time or two, always so calm and stoic, his smiles faint and polite. Nys knew nothing about him but somehow this pleasant, welcoming man before him surprised him. Perhaps because he already seemed different from what Nys was accustomed to from nobility. Or perhaps because his gentle manner sat so oddly on those sharp, almost cold, features.

Either way, Nys agreed, trying to keep his curiosity and trepidation from his expression.

He ignored the way Tanae moved to one end of the bench in a clear invitation, choosing instead to take off his jacket and drape it over the offered space. He moved to the fountain, which was directly opposite the bench, and sat down on the soft grass with his back leaning on the elevated platform. He could feel the unrelenting coldness of the smooth stone creeping into his skin through his shirt.

Nys returned his attention to Tanae and found him gaping at Nys with wide, shocked eyes. Ah, yes, it was considered inappropriate to undress in public places. While Nys personally didn’t consider taking off his _jacket_ as undressing, society unfortunately did.

Well, society could go fuck itself right up the ass.

“You look positively scandalized, Lord Tanae,” he said after a few moments of enjoying that stunned emerald gaze on him. Those eyes were quite nice. Nys bared his teeth in a smile that was a challenge and a flirtation all in one. Now that the first shock of this encounter was fading, his normal attitude was reasserting itself. Nys would never deny that one reason why he did not fit in with the nobles was his continuous defiance of all their pretty notions of propriety.

Tanae seemed to blink himself out of his reverie. Nys thought he could detect a hint of red on his cheeks but it was hard to tell in the fading light.

“You took me by surprise,” he told Nys, shooting a sideways glance at the dark green jacket discarded on the bench beside him. “I- You’re not like the others, are you?”

It was a rhetorical question, so Nys only smiled, a cynical twist of lips. He wasn’t, not in any way. Some of them were good, some were… not. He was half-expecting Tanae to leave or at least to utter some barbed remark. But what he got was a hesitant smile and soft words.

“It wasn’t meant as a criticism, Lord Veraci.”

The way he said it, so quietly _earnest_ , wiped that smirk right off Nys’s mouth. He stared hard at Tanae, scouring that pale face for signs of deceit or mockery and was simultaneously perplexed and relieved when he found none. His own relief confused him even more.

“I believe you,” Nys finally said, amused despite himself at how the other man stayed as still as a statue under the scrutiny. Now would be the point to cease conversing and leave each other to their own devices as per agreed. Even as the thought crossed his mind, Nys was opening his mouth in a question, “What were you doing here before I came?”

Tanae shrugged, outwardly nonchalant if it weren’t for the way the tension drained out of his posture. Had Nys not known better, he would have thought his acceptance of Tanae’s words was important to the man. But he did know better.

Didn’t he?

“Musing,” Tanae shot him a quicksilver grin, gone as swift as it came. “Sulking.”

Nys felt his eyebrows shoot up high on his forehead. “Sulking,” he repeated, deadpan. “Dare I ask why?”

“Because my dearest cousin delights in tormenting me.”

Was he going to have to drag answers out of this man? Nys ignored the annoying little voice in his head that chimed that this insistent curiosity was very much unlike him and asked, “Care to elaborate, my lord? I’d like to know whether or not I need to sweep you out of here on a non-existent white horse.”

_You really should smile more_ , Nys thought as his incongruous response forced startled laughter from his companion. His striking visage, too severe to be considered handsome, appeared to light up from within as he laughed, loud and free.

“I suppose you would make a rather remarkable knight in shining armor,” Tanae said once he caught his breath. His usually pallid cheeks were definitely flushed a pale pink now. His gaze scanned Nys so quickly that he could almost believe he had imagined it. “No such drastic action needed I’m afraid. Enduring the attentions of courtiers is the extent of my suffering. And as you can see, I’ve become quite adept at escaping.”

It was Nys’s turn to laugh this time, tamer than Tanae’s but no less entertained. He had to catch and smother the urge to ask Tanae if he was real or some fever dream. “Oh, I would say that seems bad enough to warrant a rescue. Horse and armor included.”

For a few carefree seconds, they grinned at each other like young lads neither of them had been for quite a long time.

“It’s good to have someone agree with me. Most do not.”

Nys knew that feeling well. He sobered quickly and leaned forward, elbows braced on knees. The light was fading and he could only just make out the green of Tanae’s eyes.

“You are not at all like I imagined, Lord Tanae,” he said before he lost the nerve. Tanae didn’t appear offended though. Quite the opposite. He gave Nys that lopsided, almost shy smile again.

“That sounds like a good thing. And please, call me Halen.”

Nys felt oddly hot all of a sudden, his neck and face burning faintly.

“It is a good thing. Halen.” He ducked his head, drew in a breath and took the plunge. “Nys, then.”

This would either be a disaster or a blessing. He could feel it in his bones. But when they smiled tentatively at each other yet again, Nys had a feeling that it would be the latter.


	2. Meant To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Pardon me but Halen, do you make a habit of inviting vaguely unbalanced men who break into your chambers and startle you for cozy conversation?”_
> 
> _“No, but I think it a good idea to invite a vaguely unbalanced friend who breaks into my house for cozy conversation, especially since he came seeking it.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought **Forged In Blood** wouldn’t have much of a readership because of the incest element, which may put off some people, but comparing the first chapter of that with this, FiB definitely fared better. Ah well…

Weeks passed without incident in spite of Nys living in constant fear of the order that would seal Halen’s fate. There were other assignments, lesser ones, a little spying here, some poison there, deeds done dutifully with neither remorse nor pleasure. Nys did his best to put that crucial meeting with Mother out of his mind but it lingered, infecting his thoughts, mocking his actions, never allowing him a moment of respite.

He took to avoiding Halen. Seeing him only added to the bewildering wreck of emotions in him. It was callous of him to punish Halen, however inadvertently, for Nys’s own failings but when visions of his lover drenched in blood, verdant eyes blank and unseeing, hit him at the sight of the laughing, happy man, it was all Nys could do to flee while swallowing back bile. Halen’s busier than ever schedule helped considerably.

And perhaps it was better this way, perhaps it would make it easier to attempt to do what was asked of him if the time came. Or so Nys told himself while trying and failing to ignore the longing he felt every single second for Halen from the core of his soul. His nights were filled with dreams and nightmares, all invariably featuring Halen, sometimes in the throes of passion, sometimes in their quieter, gentler moments and sometimes in death. The last were the worst and the most frequent. And it was always Nys that stood above him, knife in hand and drenched in blood. It made no sense, really. Nys rarely used weapons. He preferred poison, was an expert at them, even going so far to creating his own. But it was always a blade in those nightmares. The glint of silver hidden under accusing crimson haunted even his waking hours.

He knew that he wouldn’t avoid Halen forever. He couldn’t. Not only was it unfair to the man he loved but Nys was not strong enough, all guilt and trepidation aside, to stay away that long. All he could hope for was for the haunting, bloody specters in his mind to fade so he could look at Halen and see the present instead of a horrifying future that might not even come to pass. He simply needed a little more time, of worrying, fearing, hoping and wishing.

Life had other plans, as it often did.

Nys was home when he heard the news, not the sprawling monstrosity of his adoptive father’s ancestral home but rather his own place in a less affluent part of the city, tucked safely away from other nobles. It was an assassin’s abode, not a faux nobleman’s. It was Wren, one of the few street kids he paid and sometimes fed in exchange for all manner of information and petty errands, who told him.

There had been an assassination attempt on the King. His Majesty was fine. The Chief Adviser had taken a knife to the shoulder. The assailant had escaped.

His vision tilted alarmingly upon hearing the words, the edges going soft and gray. But he managed to right himself against the door and pay the boy, sending him on his way with brusque words that he could barely hear himself say. Then the panic came. Harsh, shuddering breaths, hot coal in his throat, an iron vise gripping his chest. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t _think_ past the red haze in his mind, fear and anger and despair all twining together, choking him from the inside. His mind flashed with the images from his nightmares.

He found himself on the floor when he calmed enough to focus, huddled into a ball with his back to the wall. Reason started creeping into the suffocating panic and brought with it only more fear. Halen was alive, he was sure, he’d have known if that were not the case. He was alive but hurt and the mere idea of it was darkness and terror, cold and all encompassing.

All of a sudden it was incomprehensible how Nys had ever managed to think for even an instant that he would have been capable of killing Halen. He would rather rip out his own heart.

He staggered to his feet, panting as if he had been running, keeping one hand braced on the wall for support. He wanted to see Halen, _needed_ to see him and it almost broke him all over again to know that he couldn’t. Not now, not yet. Halen was the king’s right-hand man, an important noble and a powerful politician. His injury would not be taken lightly. There would be guards and friends and family and Nys was nothing to him in the eyes of the public; polite acquaintances at best, not the lover of five years who had every right to be by his side.

Nys rubbed a finger along the jeweled ring on his ring finger, the metal warm against his skin. He could feel, even now, the tenderness in of Halen’s touch as he had slid the ring on Nys, the sweetness of the kiss that had followed- could still recall the love in his eyes and the painful sincerity of the vows he’d uttered.

Halen would be fine. Night would fall soon and not even the King’s Personal Guard would be able to stop Nys from going to his lover then.

His mind drifted to the assassin who had managed to escape and his mouth twisted into a sharp sneer. Meanwhile, he should do something about that.

 

†

_Sometimes, I feel sorry that I met you, that I fell in love with you. But then you look at me and I forget to be anything but grateful_

†

 

Nys’s life was not mundane by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, it could be said that there was entirely too much excitement in his life. And yet the fact remained that nothing he had been through quite compared to the utter oddness of Lord Halen Tanae’s increasingly frequent presence in his life. It was strange, surreal and secretive, the last factor being more accidental than deliberate. In the beginning, Nys had believed that their meetings were coincidental too. The few that had followed that first encounter in the maze certainly were, and they were just as pleasant as the first, if not more so. But as for the ones that came after Nys left the palace… well, it was pretty hard to dismiss coming across Halen in the admittedly disreputable pawnshop Nys frequented or literally running into him in the luxurious bathhouse Nys just _happened_ to be hit by an urge to visit, as mere chance.

It had taken a long night involving copious amounts of alcohol and some drunken self-introspection for Nys to admit to himself that he was perhaps subconsciously seeking out Halen. It was a gross misuse of the information and skills he’d acquired in the course of his work for the Order, not that he was feeling particularly guilty. However, that did leave the question of precisely what Halen thought he was doing. Nys at least had the excuse of an inexplicable fixation on the strangely likeable noble.

As Nys was one who preferred to confront issues that vexed him, he had decided to deal with the entire vexing issue as soon as possible. The resolution had made a great deal of sense to a mind pleasantly numbed by drink. He had even remembered it the next day and, emboldened with courage born of conviction, hastened to put it into practice.

And that was how he found himself inside Halen’s manor, in his private chambers no less. He was also feeling far less brave. Sneaking in had been easy enough and it had distracted Nys quite thoroughly from the insanity of his actions. But now that he was left with nothing to do but wait for the esteemed adviser in his bedroom like a stereotypically dutiful spouse, the determination he had felt earlier was slowly giving way to panic.

He had no right to be here. The blatant invasion of privacy did not bother him as much as it should have, since it was something he had done before and was sure to do again. An occupational hazard, really. What did bother him was how he was just sitting there waiting to be _found_ , at which point anything could happen. Halen might be outraged, rightfully so, and throw him out or more likely, sic the guards on him. A small, logical voice whispered in his mind that Halen was far too nice to do anything of the sort without listening to Nys first. The voice was more or less drowned out by the much louder panic.

His attempt to just think of this as another job and relax was quickly abandoned as the image of Halen hurt by his hand, or any hand, made him cringe and fight sudden nausea.

Distracted as he was in his own thoughts, Nys didn’t hear the door opening until it was too late. Then there was silence, both in his head and out in the room, as Halen stepped inside and promptly froze at the sight of Nys.

“I really should have thought this through better,” Nys muttered but it might as well have been a shout for the way it rang between the two of them. “I promise I am not stalking you.” At this point, he might as well swallow his foot.

“Nys?” The naked incredulity in Halen’s voice would have amused Nys in any other situation.

“In my defense, I was drunk when I made this decision,” he blurted out, grimacing the moment he finished. _And clearly insane during its execution._

Halen however continued to just gape at him. His mouth opened once but only air escaped. Nys fidgeted, casting a thoughtful glance at the window beside him. It was the way he had used to get here, so surely he could climb right out before Halen regained his senses. Maybe he would get lucky and Halen would think that it had all been a strange hallucination. Before he could do something of the sort and make matters worse, Halen closed the door and took a couple more steps toward Nys.

“How did you get in here?”

At least he had yet to call for the guards. Though a part of Nys wanted to berate the man for not doing so because it was really not wise to just confront an intruder alone in a secluded room. He kept his mouth shut since pointing that out would do him no favors.

“You can take the boy out of the street but you can’t take the street out of the boy,” Nys answered with a shrug, gesturing nonchalantly at the window. Technically, it was a lie but admitting that he broke into places on a habitual basis was sure to get Halen to summon the guards. Besides, the whole assassin angle might upset him.

“But why are you here?” Nys had to admit that Halen looked good when flustered. There was some color to his usually pallid face and he was fidgeting wildly, something Nys had never seen him do before.

“I don’t know,” Nys said, his voice small and uncertain, much like how he felt at the moment. “As I said, I was drunk and I had this grand idea about talking to you about these conveniently coincidental meetings of ours but-” He tapered off indecisively and rubbed a hand along his face, nails scraping along skin. The pain did little to restore his equilibrium. “Following through seemed like a good idea after the drink wore off. Not so any longer.”

Not only did he sound like a fool, he probably came off as a lunatic. Brilliant.

Halen didn’t laugh, not exactly, but he made an odd little noise in his throat and bowed his head, shoulders quaking. He looked back up just as quickly and there was a grin on his face. Nys found his attention narrowing down to those smiling lips. They were a little too full for the rest of his face and looked as if they’d be soft to the touch, or kiss.

He really should not be thinking like that right now, considering how it was precisely that line of thought that got him into this mess in the first place.

“You are determined to astound me time after time, aren’t you, my lord Veraci?” Halen told him, and Nys was a little torn about whether to be hurt by the use of his title or pleased by the obvious affection in the words. “I think we should talk though perhaps in a more appropriate place.” Halen’s gaze flicked to the large bed between them and Nys swore that the red in his cheeks became brighter. Something about all this was bothering him though.

“Pardon me but, Halen, do you make a habit of inviting vaguely unbalanced men who break into your chambers and startle you for cozy conversation?” Nys was aware that he was not helping himself at the moment but he had to ask. Much to his chagrin, the question only prompted a wider grin.

“No, but I think it a good idea to invite a vaguely unbalanced _friend_ who breaks into my house for cozy conversation, especially since he came seeking it.”

“Friends. Er, you barely know me.”

“I beg to differ. And even if that were true, I suppose we are about to remedy that.”

“But-”

“Do you intend me any kind of harm?”

“ _No!_ ”                                                

“Then I don’t see the problem. Come along, Nys.” And with that, Halen opened the door and walked out, leaving Nys with no choice but to follow. Well, he supposed he could find solace in the window but tempting as it was, leaving now would be running away and pure cowardice. He had wanted to talk; it appeared as if he would get exactly that.

Nys, uncharacteristically docile, followed Halen to the out of his bedroom. He was led to a spacious parlor, the décor the same cool hues of pale blue and green as the bedroom. Nys obediently sat down on the offered chair, fighting off the urge to slouch and attempt to hide in the upholstery. He mutely watched the other man settle down directly opposite him. Halen was still smiling, much to Nys’s consternation.

“I’m glad you are amused,” he grumbled, frowning. Halen smiled even wider.

“It’s not every day that I’m surprised in my own bedroom by elusive friends.”

“Elusive?” Nys opted to ignore the rest of that sentence. He was never going to drink again. And for the sake of his own sanity, he was not going to ponder the fact that he had been completely sober while acting upon his inebriated self’s resolution.

To his alarm, Halen was the one suddenly looking embarrassed. “Ah, well, yes.  I looked for you after you and your father left the palace. But I had no idea how to find you. I could hardly just barge into Lord Rynn’s house and demand to see his son. None of my peers seemed close enough to you to help me, and were really of no use, though they did take the time to warn me that you were notoriously intolerant of nobility.” Nys had to smile at that even though there was a flicker of annoyance at these faceless others that ‘warned’ Halen. Nys could tolerate him just fine, thank you. “You are rarely seen at brothels or gambling houses, you have a passing acquaintance at most with your father’s friends and their families, and you don’t seem to have courted anyone, though there is speculation that you prefer men to women.”

“Courtiers are all incurable gossips,” Nys stated flatly. It took all his willpower to not react to the gentle question in Halen’s voice at that last sentence. He felt a better though, knowing that his interest wasn’t pitifully one-sided.

“Then you should know that the amount of information on you is shockingly scant.”

“I prefer it that way, Halen.” He intended that to come out sharp and decisive but instead he sounded apologetic. It wasn’t his fault; there was no way he could be rude while Halen was looking at him like that, with those ridiculously pretty green eyes so intent and hopeful. “All those times we ran into each other… I assume that it was intentional on more than just my part.”

Halen’s crooked, now familiar grin was all the answer Nys needed.

“They were right, you know,” Nys said before he could talk himself out of it. “I do prefer men over women.”

Halen’s smile softened, his gaze filling with a warmth that Nys could feel on every inch of his skin. It wasn’t normal, the wretched, beautiful pull to this man he barely knew. Nys was used to lust, to the engrossing physicality of it. He’d had his fair share of heated, rushed encounters that always ended with him alone in bed, sated and sleepy. He had never really felt the need for more.

“I was hoping they were,” Halen responded, voice low and ever so slightly breathy.

A shuddering sigh tore through Nys. He could confidently say that this was more. With Halen, he didn’t want a quick, filthy fuck that inevitably ended with them parting ways, never to see each other again except perhaps by accident. He liked Halen, enjoyed his company and their conversations, relatively brief as they had been. That Nys couldn’t stop admiring Halen’s eyes or often sneaked glances at his lips as they moved just made an already bemusing situation even more so. Those few dreams from which he had woken hard and aching to the memory of green eyes staring at him in dazed ecstasy did not help matters in the slightest.

The gods were probably laughing at how this unprecedented combination of affection and attraction confounded Nys Veraci, the fearless eyes and fangs of the Order.

Halen slowly rose from his seat, his expression a conflicting blend of determination and hesitation. Nys just sat frozen as the other man stepped close to him, standing unusually close for a few, uncomfortable moments before sinking to his knees by Nys’s chair. Halen look up at Nys, eyes half hidden under a smooth curtain of hair. It felt natural to reach out and brush away the fringe so that the brilliant orbs were revealed to him. Nys didn’t- couldn’t- remove his palm and it remained there, splayed over Halen’s temple, slowly shifting to mold itself along one sculpted cheek.

Halen tilted his head, smiling lips and half-closed lids as clear an invitation as Nys was ever likely to receive. And Nys took it, pushing away confusion and apprehension as he bent his torso to press his mouth to Halen’s.

The kiss wasn’t the flawless dance of teeth and tongue it had been in Nys’s dreams; they were clumsy in their eagerness, their mouths as yet unused to the feel of each other. But the dreams paled next to the silken softness of Halen’s lips, and the sweetness of that first thrilling taste, all exhilarating in a way that robbed Nys of breath and sent his heart thudding violently. Nys kept his eyes open throughout, watching the other, enchanted by the way Halen’s lashes fluttered.

Both were breathless upon parting, flushed with heat and sheer delight.

“I hope,” Nys said once he regained the use of voice, “that you don’t make a habit of seducing men who show up announced in your chambers.”

Halen laughed, low and husky. “Rest assured that I don’t. You are quite the special case.”

Nys smiled, and it felt as if his face was splitting in two. “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to the condensed nature of this story, I’m unable to include so many of the little details that would help flesh out the setting and the characters. I think that’s partly my motivation for working on a longer version- which I’ve actually started… if a little over 100 words even counts as ‘started’.
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated. Help me out here, folks.


	3. Only The Falling Soar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I’ll tell you a secret, Halen. I am terrified of you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I’m late- sorry! Life got crazy for a bit. I think my teachers are trying to kill me. Be warned that this chapter has explicit sex.

Halen was at his own home, not the palace, and that gave Nys hope that perhaps the wound wasn’t too severe. Surely His Majesty would not have let Halen leave if his health was in dire straits? But then, Nys knew better than anyone else the stubborn streak that lurked beneath Halen’s mild demeanor. Either way, he was relieved. It was hardly impossible to sneak into the palace but Halen’s house was much easier, the territory far more familiar.

There were indeed guards outside his room and around the premises but Nys moved from shadows to shadows with the ease of long practice, avoiding the patrolling men and their searching gazes. He was trembling from anxiety by the time he pulled himself into Halen’s bedroom through the open window.

He was not surprised to find Halen inside. He was hoping for exactly that. But the sight of the man who had supposedly taken an arrow through one shoulder pacing the room with irritation emanating off him was quite shocking.

“Halen?” He gasped out, out of breath from both exercise and anticipation.

Halen whipped around at the sound of his name and froze, staring at Nys with wide eyes, and then he was across the room, pulling Nys into a crushing embrace that he returned with equal vigor. He held Halen tight, all thoughts of the injury momentarily fleeing his mind at the solid, reassuring presence in his arms. Nys pressed his face to the other man’s hair, clutching him tighter with a force that bordered on desperation. It was not until Halen made a faint noise of distress that Nys was reminded of the situation, that Halen was _hurt_ and he was not helping matters by trying to break the man’s ribs.

“I apologize,” Nys murmured hastily, distractedly as he pulled back. He didn’t let go of Halen, could not have even if he had tried, but held him at arm’s length, scrutinizing him anxiously. To untrained eyes, Halen would have looked fine, dressed in a simple linen shirt and breeches as if he had been just about to go to bed. But Nys could pick up the slightly stiff way in which he held one side, the too-white pallor of his skin and the way his smile seemed a tad too bright to be genuine. He realized with a start that Halen was trying to pretend as if nothing was wrong.

“You truly think I would be so easily deceived?” Nys hissed, the words coming out low and livid, concern warped by anger. “You think I have not heard? That I did not see the guards strolling about like dogs?”

“Nys, love-”                                                    

“How were you planning on hiding the wound from me, Halen? Do you believe me _blind_ , you daft fool?” His voice had been rising with each word, ending in a pitched shout that left a somber hush in its wake. Halen’s false smile had turned into a grimace. His eyes dropped to the floor for an instant in defeat before coming back up to settle on Nys’s own.

“I really am quite fine, Nys,” he silenced the protest Nys had been about to make with one finger on parted lips. “I am injured, yes. It’s merely a graze, the arrow only brushed past my shoulder. I do not know what you heard but you and I are both aware of how often stories are exaggerated when told. I have already had some visit, claiming they were told I was on my deathbed, having sacrificed myself for Rana. I suspect they were disappointed to find me relatively unharmed.”

He smiled. Nys didn’t.

The suffocating blend of anger and fear and concern was fading though, not entirely or even considerably but just enough for him to see look, really _look_ , at Halen. Yes, he was pale and winded but he looked nothing like a man gravely injured. The pacing itself should have been a clue, but Nys had been too worried then to think. Even now, it still wasn’t enough. The storm inside him had been tamed but it had not calmed. Perhaps it would be some time before it did, the shock of the past few hours too profound to die quietly. More than anything, Nys needed to see with his own eyes the exact extend of the damage.

“Show me.”

Halen looked hesitant. He raised his right hand to his left shoulder, plucking distractedly at the fabric there. Nys closed the little distance between them and took the other man’s face in his hands. His voice, when he spoke, came out raw and choked.

“I need to see, Halen. I need to know you- that you are fine.”

The way Halen’s beautiful green eyes filled with understanding and warmth nearly broke him then and there. Gods, he was a fool for ever imagining robbing those eyes of life.

Nys quickly stripped Halen out of his shirt, for once not pausing to admire the slender body revealed. There was a white cloth wrapped neatly around his left bicep, just under his shoulder. Nys’s fingers paused just short of touching the bandage. He wanted to see the wound yet he was afraid to upset it.

“It’s fine,” Halen told him quietly. “I’ll have someone bind it afterwards.”

That was all the permission he required. Nys unwound the cloth, slowly, carefully, with shaking hands. To his relief, it wasn’t the scent of blood that hit him but that of medicine, something sharp and none too pleasant. He might have recognized what it was if he could care to spare any attention for it. The wound came into view and Nys stared at it for a long moment, unblinking. Relief flooded him and his breath left him in a shuddering exhale.

It was a gash, not precisely shallow but far from grievous. It was no longer bleeding. He could so easily imagine the way the arrow had grazed this arm, splitting flesh and spilling blood. They were lucky it had not been poisoned. That’s what Nys would have done.

Unwittingly, the assailant’s face appeared in Nys’s mind as the mask of terror it had been in death. He reached out and ever so gently traced the reddened edges of the cut. His hands were clean now but Nys could effortlessly recall how they had looked drenched in the blood of the one who had harmed his lover, his friend, his godsdamned _world_.

Finding the would-be assassin had been easy. He had been such an amateur. Nys was not generally one for bloodletting, finding it too messy, too obvious. Poisons were his preference. But he had made an exception for that one. He had made him bleed, made him scream.

“Nys?” The macabre memory splintered at Halen’s voice, bringing Nys back to the present. “Are you alright, love?”

“I am now.” Nys pressed his lips to Halen’s, quick and chaste. He pulled away, smiling, and traced the wound again. “We should wrap this.”

“Of course, excuse me a moment I’ll call-”

“I will do it.”

Halen shot him a surprised look but didn’t protest, mutely allowing Nys to seat him on the bed and tend to him. The required supplies had been left on the bedside table, probably by Gyal, Halen’s thoughtful manservant. Nys had a feeling he knew of his master’s affair. Silence reigned as Nys worked but he could feel the other’s questioning eyes on him. After all, it was not normal for a nobleman, even one such as himself, to be skilled in medical care. And Nys wasn’t, not truly. But he knew some of the basics. He had been taught by Mother who had deemed it useful considering his line of work. But it wasn’t as if Halen had had any chance to find out and Nys did not know how he could explain anyway. It hurt to think of how much of himself he kept from the man he love; something he’d willfully ignored in the past. Nothing like the imminent end of everything to sort out one’s perspective.

He put the paraphernalia back in its place when he finished but returned to kneel on the floor, between Halen’s legs.

“I didn’t know you could-”

Nys cut off the question with a kiss, surging up to crush his mouth against Halen’s, hard enough to hurt. It was clumsy and frantic, reeking of lingering fear and fury. Nys licked and bit at the mouth that parted for him so readily, worrying the tender flesh with his teeth till it was slick and tasting faintly of blood. His hands came up to clutch at Halen’s shoulders as he pressed nipping kisses along his jaw, working down to his neck. Nys sucked hard at the pulse beating fast and wild, grinning against skin when Halen made a little keening noise. He trailed his mouth lower and rubbed his face against Halen’s chest like a cat. A hand cupped the back of his neck, not pressing just resting, and Nys leaned back into it for a moment before returning his attention to the warm, pale flesh before him. Halen’s nipples were already hard little nubs and he closed his mouth around one, biting down lightly. Halen arched into him with the softest of cries.

Normally, Nys would have liked nothing more than to tease and torment and make Halen writhe and whimper under him. But he was impatient tonight, wanting to give and take and touch and fuck until they were both spent, tangled so close together that they were all but one entity. There was a clawing hunger rising inside him, all the turmoil he had been through converging with his ever present love and lust for Halen.

He made quick work of Halen’s breeches, pulling it off before the other could do more than blink wide eyes at him. Halen was almost all the way hard and Nys put aside his frenzy for just an instant to lean back and just look.

Every inch of Halen was familiar to Nys but no less marvelous for it. He was slender, almost delicate, in build, with pale, smooth skin that marked so very easily. His eyes were swiftly drawn to the treat that awaited him down below. A bush of dark hair decorated Halen’s groin, quite a contrast to the conspicuous lack of hair along the rest of him. His cock jutted out from the patch, long and curved and flushed. Nys licked his lips, a groan echoing from above at the gesture.

He touched his mouth to the tip in a soft kiss before wrapping his lips around the head, suckling the flesh. He didn’t tease; that wasn’t what either of them needed tonight. He took in as much as he could in one go, tongue and throat working, sucking, stroking, sliding. He closed his eyes, focused solely on the hard shaft inside him. He relaxed his throat and slowly worked Halen’s cock until he was all the way down. He pulled back, took a breath and then did it all over again, repeating the sensual cycle until Halen’s thighs were shaking with the force of his pleasure. The harsh, strangled sounds that drifted down from his lover spurred Nys on to suck and swallow faster, deeper. Nys dug his nails into Halen’s hips, grinning around his mouthful at the answering moan. He wanted to feel Halen release down his throat and then fuck his pliant body into oblivion.

It wasn’t long before Halen was thrusting into his mouth, short, tightly controlled motions that were more involuntary than anything else. Nys knew that, if he were to glance up, he would see Halen with his head bowed down, face twisted into an expression that could be agony just as easily as ecstasy. He dragged his lips along the rock hard shaft so that only the head remained in his mouth. He pressed his tongue into the slit, tasted the liquid gathered there and that was it. Halen’s hips bucked up violently and he came, flooding Nys’s mouth with salty bitterness. He swallowed dutifully, barely registering the unpleasant taste, driven to distraction by the pained rapture of his partner’s visage.

He released Halen’s length with one last suck that won him a whimper and rose to his feet, wasting no time straddling the other man’s lap. Halen instinctively drew him close, kissing him with a sated sigh. As their mouths danced a well-known dance, Nys could feel Halen pawing at his clothes, too spent to do more than clumsily tug at the ties. Nys wrenched himself away and stripped himself as quickly as possible. He shook his head when Halen reached out, pushing him back and down till he was lying on the mattress, pale body flushed pink and emerald eyes clouded with lust. Halen licked his reddened lips and breathed Nys’s name, low and needy.

Gods, he was beautiful.

Nys descended on him with the full force of his desperate hunger, latching onto the taut curve of his neck and biting hard. He held Halen down with his hands and body as the man writhed beneath him, letting out a nearly incoherent stream of curses as Nys continued to suck the abused flesh. He finally kissed the tender skin and pulled back to admire his work. It would bruise noticeably and damn it all, Nys wanted it, wanted to see this glorious man marked as his. The remnants of fear and horror still lurked beneath the surface of his mind. Perhaps it always would as a reminder of how much he needed Halen to be alive and happy.

He laughed, breathless with arousal, when Halen roughly thrust a vial at him. He hands shook as he uncapped the little bottle and soaked two fingers in the mildly scented oil. A few drops dripped down to Halen’s stomach and he squirmed at the sensation. Nys moved so he was beside Halen rather than atop him. His partner needed no further prompting to spread his legs wide, bending them at the knees. He grabbed a pillow and hastily shoved it under his hips. Nys had too squeeze his eyes shut and breathe out deeply so that he didn’t come like a lad at the sight alone.

“Nys!” Halen bit out and sweet Serpent, he sounded wrecked. “ _Fuck_ _me_.”

There was nothing smooth or graceful about Nys as he took his place between Halen’s enticingly open thighs, one hand still gripping the vial and the other dripping oil. He thrust both fingers in at once, pushing past the feeble resistance of the puckered ring with a groan that was echoed by his lover. He sought out the special spot inside that silky heat, found it and _pressed_ , grinning ferociously when Halen cried out and arched off the bed. His passage clenched around Nys’s fingers. He ruthlessly rubbed that spot again and again until Halen was whimpering and writhing, hands clasping and clawing at the sheets, his cock twitching in a valiant attempt to rise to life again.

“Now, now- gods above Nys,” Halen’s voice broke off into a long moan as Nys hooked his fingers. “Inside me, need you, _now_.”

And how he could he not oblige?

Nys poured the rest of the vial on his cock, slicking it up well. He removed his fingers from Halen, who swore vehemently at their absence and looked up at Nys with a heavy-lidded gaze.

“So beautiful,” Nys whispered reverently. He gripped Halen’s hip with a hand, positioned himself with the other and started pressing in. He meant to go slow, at least for that first thrust but he had barely gotten the head inside when Halen slammed down onto him, taking him to the hilt and making him scream out in startled pleasure. For an endless moment, he remained frozen, clutching Halen with bruising force as he tried to assimilate to being surrounded by scorching tightness. He let out a shuddering breath, part sigh, part moan, when Halen very deliberately clenched his muscles in an unspoken command to _move_. Nys started pulling out, slow and steady, savoring each drag and catch, stopping when he was almost all the way out, and then shoved back in. Fire ripped through him, through his veins, into his bones and down to his soul. His pace grew and grew until he was slamming into Halen, hard and hot and fast. He threw his head back, teeth bared and gritted. The noises Halen was making under him fell like music on his hears, joining the slick sounds of flesh on flesh, skin on skin.

He braced his hands on the bed and draped his body over Halen’s torso to kiss him. It was slack and sloppy, both of them too caught up in their increasingly frantic coupling to do more than press their open mouths together. Nys could feel Halen’s revived erection trapped between their abdomens. He felt a hand sink into his hair, nails digging into his scalp, and he groaned, hips thrusting even faster as the little restraint he’d retained disappared. He was balanced on the verge of release, his entire body pulled taut in ready anticipation. One final thrust, a slick slide of sensation, and then he was drowning, in Halen, in heat and light and bliss.

When he regained some semblance of coherent thought, he was collapsed on Halen, still buried deep in him. He smiled wearily when he felt the warm liquid smeared on both their stomachs. He pressed a light kiss to the closest patch of skin available to him, Halen’s collarbone apparently, and forced his happily exhausted body to move. Pulling out made Nys wince and drew a low whine from Halen. He collapsed on his side on the bed, pressed close to his lover. They were a mess of bodily fluids and it felt strangely reassuring.

Nys swore as he remembered Halen’s injury. Gods knew how he had managed to forget in the first place but perhaps overwhelming desire was not conductive to one’s presence of mind.

“Your shoulder…” he said, and was somewhat surprised to find to hear his own voice. It was hoarse and gritty.

A huff of laughter was the answer he received. Halen turned to lie on his side, face to face with Halen. He was smiling wide, eyes crinkled at the corners.

“It’s fine. It’s… I never even noticed it, truth be told. I am fine, Nys.”

He laid a hand on Halen’s face, cupping one flushed cheek. He brushed his thumb softly under his eye and it felt as if his heart would break apart when he watched the way Halen leaned into it, eyes fluttering closed.

“You could have died,” Nys said, his voice lost and quivering. It was more to himself than Halen. A shudder wrecked him as he tried to imagine the task being his, of being ordered to kill this man to protect the secrets of the organization he had long since given himself over to.

“But I’m not,” Halen replied, so devastatingly gentle. He kept his eyes closed but his turned his face to kiss the center of Nys’s palm. “I’m here.”

Nys only nodded and molded his body to the other’s in a close embrace.

Halen was alive and here. And Nys would do anything to ensure it remained that way.

Anything.

 

†

_I’ll tell you a secret, Halen. I am terrified of you. For you could ruin me with but a word, a glance, a touch. For I don’t know if the truth of me will drive you away. For I think I can no longer live without you. I fear you because I love you._

†

 

It was frighteningly easy to be with Halen.

Nys had no experience in relationships. The closest comparison he had to intimacy were the dully pleasant memories of nights of quick fucks, matters of the body that never once touched his mind or his heart. But things developed differently with Halen, which was somehow no surprise. Nys often found himself fumbling for the right words and actions, scared to death of a misstep that would send them their separate ways.

It wasn’t about just sex with Halen. In fact, for quite some time it wasn’t about sex at all. Oh, Nys wanted him and he knew from the hot, lingering way Halen sometimes looked at him that the desire was reciprocated. But they were contented by oddly tender kisses and tame petting, spending most of their time talking about everything and nothing, playing the occasional game and even grinning at each other like besotted fools.

Nys had heard more times than he could count several variations of the phrase ‘Appearances can be deceiving’ and was all too aware of how true it was but those first few months were still spent being sporadically surprised by how little the real Halen was unlike anything you would think him to be. Outside, he was all harsh lines and sharp angles, stoic and untouchable. Always polite, even kind, but never warm. The side of him Nys saw was soft and sweet, full of glittering smiles and that great, gentle gaze. He supposed he was the same way, at ease in Halen’s company in a way he never was, in a way never really had the chance to be. It was more than a little shocking, the realization that they were courting each other.

It made him wonder just how it all came about. What had possessed them both to not reject the other with their customary masks in the maze that day?

Halen would tell him, one day, that there was something about Nys that had drawn him in. Nys would smile and say it was the same for him. And deep inside him, where shadows and obscure thoughts roved, he would believe that it was fate, destiny that bound them together. Because it took Halen for Nys to realize how hollow a part of him had been, how the beauty of life had been slipping past his vision.

It was perhaps silly of him, and definitely melodramatic, but he believed with utmost sincerity that they were meant to be. It couldn’t be anything else, not with how easy it was to care, to let Halen in as much as he had ever let another human being in.

And finally, when the fire between them burned too hot to be sated with just lips and hands, they fell together, bare bodies twining, seeing, learning, giving and loving together.

It wasn’t perfect. They fumbled, hands suddenly clumsy, and laughed too much, trying to hide their nervousness behind shaky chuckles. But it was them, Nys and Halen, and they fit so well in all else, and in the end, it was easy for their bodies to emulate their hearts and minds, joining together in sweat slick heat and sweet ecstasy.

Falling in love was as frightening as it was inevitable. But Nys never really had choice, not truly. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Their mutual confessions were whispered like precious secrets in between lazy kisses and warm smiles but even as Nys’s heart swelled with peace and joy the likes of which it had never felt before, he had to wonder: how could Halen really love Nys when he only knew half of him?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have yet to finish the fifth chapter- another consequence of general RL craziness. Welp.


	4. Death Will Do Us Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I love you,” Nys breathed, turning to place his mouth by the other’s ear. “I know I do not say that enough, but I do love you so very much. And if it were possible for us to marry, you need only have snapped your fingers and I would have been at the altar.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four down, one to go!

Weeks passed. Halen healed, and the ruckus concerning the assassination attempt eventually died down though there were displeased murmurs here and there about the Royal Guard’s failure to capture the assailant. Nys smiled every time he heard them. The soldiers could hardly catch one who was already dead and meticulously disposed of.

He and Halen spent every moment they could together, though they were naturally few. But the nights were wholly theirs, filled with both passion and tenderness. Nys cherished each precious instant, unable to shake the feeling that their days were numbered. Halen’s abrupt secretiveness about his work didn’t help. Nys knew that he spent an unusual amount of time away from the palace but not even his sources could tell him where his lover disappeared to. And it was too risky to tail Halen himself. His lover didn’t lie to him about these mysterious absences but he was evasive, only telling him that Halen was doing something for the king.

Nys was not foolish enough to ignore the foreboding feeling that steadily grew in him but he was equally helpless to act on it.

All the while, he continued to lie to the Order, faking reports of the friendship he was ‘building’ with the Chief Adviser. It was almost as if he was trying to actively counteract ten years of unfailing loyalty. Love made fools of them all. Yet, Nys could not regret Halen. What they had together, what they were to each other… it was worth it, no matter what the future held. And he would make sure that Halen survived whatever trials they faced. He would protect the Order too.

As for himself, well, he would not die a traitor, not to his lover and not to his beliefs.

The summons he received three months after that shattering meeting with Mother was just like any other, discreet and urgent. _Nothing_ about it warranted the panic that seized Nys or the feeling of walls closing in around him. But he had lived long enough to know that not everything could explained away by calm rationality and while he could try with all his might to dismiss his trepidation as mere paranoia, he knew it wasn’t.

That instinct was only confirmed when he entered the familiar, circular room to come face to face with Mother. She stood in the middle of the room, hood down, grey hair framing her lined visage. The somber set of her face told him all he needed to know.

It was time.       

Nys felt emptied of all emotion. He wondered with distant curiosity if this was his mind’s way of protecting him. Just as well. He could not afford to lose his composure until he was alone.

“He is too close,” Mother said with a sad shake of her dead. It was the first time Nys had seen her display any emotion while ordering an execution. Her following words explained why. “It is such a pity. Lord Tanae is a good, honorable man.”

_Then why would you kill him?_ Nys knew better than to ask that. Good or bad, corrupt or honorable, none of it mattered. The Order valued its secrecy above everything else.

“Had he not been so loyal to the king, we could’ve tried to recruit him instead,” Mother continued, unaware that the same thought had crossed Nys’s mind a million times, only to wither and die as reality filtered in. Halen loved his cousin and was too dedicated to ever keep information about a group as powerful and dangerous as the Order a secret.

“Does he know for sure?” Nys asked, a little surprised at how blank he sounded. Bleak and empty, as if hollowed out from the inside.

“He knows but he lacks proof,” Mother answered. The sadness was gone now, her customary solemnity taking its place. “We have not made the effort an easy one for him but he is admirably persistent. He just might find the evidence he needs. But even without it, he could convince the king of the truth. We can wait no longer. Halen Tanae must die.”

Nys nodded stonily. Typical Halen, waiting to be absolutely sure before he made his move.  He would smile if his lips could remember the sensation.

“He trusts you, does he not?” Mother asked him, gazing with Nys with a faint frown.

_More than you could ever imagine_. “He trusts me enough.”

Nys,” she called, a hint of sharpness in her tone, and Nys struggled through the odd lethargy settling over his mind to focus on her. “I am sorry, son. I do not imagine this is easy. It pains me to ask this of you, especially after my previous instruction to befriend him.”

Nys clenched his teeth hard enough to hurt.

“He is a good man,” Nys simply said, wanting nothing more than to leave already, wishing he could despise her for what she was asking of him. But how could he, when he knew she had no idea what Halen meant to Nys? He had to wonder though about whether it would have made a difference if she had. He didn’t think so. “But I will do what must be done.”

Mother nodded, clearly pleased with his answer. She walked towards him and paused at his side to clasp his shoulder in a strangely affectionate grip. “Strike swift and true, my son.”

And then she was gone, striding past him and out the room. The door closed behind her with a resounding click, leaving Nys alone with his thoughts.

He had not lied. He would do what had to be done.

Halen would not die.                       

Nys walked through the streets with blank eyes and a blanker mind. His feet knew the way though and it wasn’t long before he found himself at his house, standing in his room, his cloak a dark heap at his feet. He collapsed onto his bed, sprawling out and staring at the ceiling. He felt inexplicably tired, old beyond his years but no wiser. The thought that it would all be over soon did little to comfort him.

He had accepted the fragility of human life at a very early age, surrounded as he had been by starvation and disease and death. While his station in life had improved dramatically, his acquaintance with the ways of death had only grown. He was an agent of death, after all. An assassin who walked in the shadows. It had felt easy, natural almost, to just accept his own mortality. He had planned to enjoy life while it lasted and embrace death when it came with little fuss, no matter what form it took.

What he had not counted upon then was a man who made life bright and brilliant and beautiful, who looked at Nys if he was the sun though he was only ever the shadow, who made Nys _feel_ with a ferocity that was at once humbling and empowering.

He wanted to live for Halen, with Halen. He wanted to cease with all the secrecy and claim his lover in front of the world. He wanted to kiss Halen before the snotty nobles and scandalize their delicate sensibilities. He wanted… gods, he wanted a life with the man he loved. He wanted to grow old with Halen and die with him.

It seemed unfair somehow that he would have none of that. Except it wasn’t, because Nys ultimately brought this upon himself.

He spent the night in a sleepless haze, memories playing behind his lids, images of times dark and bright. At the crack of dawn, he got up, dressed presentably and set off towards Halen’s home.

They had something to discuss.

 

†

_Do you think I ever had a choice? Do you think you did? I like to think so but there are times when I doubt. Those times are more frequent now. Do you think we were ever anything but doomed? I didn’t but now I see that I was blind._

†

 

It would come as no shock whatsoever to anyone who knew Nys well, of whom there were very few, that he despised weddings. Too many people, too much noise, and far, far too much smiling. There was nothing tolerable about them. Yet there he was, entirely by his own choice, just because Halen had asked and Nys couldn’t find it in himself to say no to that sweet, hopeful smile. In the palace no less, because _of course_ the wedding of the king’s cousin and the chief advisor’s younger sister would be held in the royal fucking palace.

Love was entirely too much trouble, really.

Nys was aware that he must be scowling something fierce if his father’s amused glances and Halen’s placating smiles were any indication. How Halen even managed to spot Nys where he was hiding in a shadowed corner of the hall while Halen was on the dais beside his sister was quite the mystery.

But despite his dislike, it was with genuine curiosity that he turned his attention to the bride. He had met her once, at Halen’s insistence. She was the only one who knew of their relationship and had sworn on the graves of her and Halen’s parents to keep it a secret. She was a spirited creature, softer in appearance than Halen but sharper with words and shrewd. Nys liked her, as much as he could like anyone whom he had known for less than an hour.

Vellys Tanae looked resplendent on her wedding day, the expression of unadulterated joy on her face transforming her beauty from mere prettiness to something stunning. She was clad in a traditional wedding gown, blindingly white and conservative, but with her long, brown hair loose down her back instead of twisted into a knot as was typical these days. It suited her. Her husband-to-be stood opposite her, blind to all but his bride as the ceremony progressed.

But Nys’s eyes were drawn repeatedly to the tall figure beside Vellys. As lovely as the bride and groom were, they paled in Nys’s eyes when compared to the elegant form of his lover. Halen was dressed in the dark colors he preferred, blue and grey this time around, and looked nothing whatsoever like his sister. And indeed the siblings looked nothing like each other, except for the eyes. They both had those brilliant green eyes Nys found so captivating.

As Nys lazily drank in the sight of Halen, vaguely regretful of the distance between them as it denied him a clearer view, another thing penetrated his mind, cutting through the haze of his belligerent boredom to actually register as words.

The wedding vows. Promises of love and hope and honesty uttered with a disarming devotion that called to the part of Nys that gazed upon Halen as if he held the sun in his palms. The words and the message they contained washed over Nys, awakening something akin to longing inside him.

What would it be like, to be able to say those words to Halen before the world, before the gods and the king and the nobles, to claim Halen as his and be claimed in return? The longing intensified into an almost physical ache.

He was being stupid. Even if they weren’t both men, the nature of Nys’s profession and Halen’s station would render such a union impossible. Knowing that, however, did little to curb the _wanting_ that he felt. His gaze, which had involuntarily strayed to the young couple, returned to Halen. Nys could only smile to see his lover staring right back with a piercing intensity in his eyes that Nys imagined he matched in kind. There was no doubt in his mind that their thoughts were the same in that moment.

Hopeless yearning for a hopeless fate.

The rest of the wedding passed in an indistinct blur. Nys lost sight of Halen once the main ceremony was over and the revelry commenced. As usual, Nys kept away from people as best as he could, slinking about in the shadows, a piece of the puzzle that did not quite fit. While he normally would have used the opportunity to observe the others and keep an ear out for useful information, he was far too preoccupied that evening, lost in the musings the wedding had stirred. A fruitless train of thought if there ever was any but he had long since concluded that emotions rarely had anything to with reason.

In the end, it really wasn’t surprising that he found himself once again at the heart of the maze, the place he had unofficially claimed as his and where he had met Halen for the first time. It was his first time here after that chance encounter.

“I suppose I should be grateful to you,” Nys murmured, looking around the cozy enclosure, uncaring that he was addressing a cluster of inanimate objects. “Though who knows, if I had not bumped into Halen here that day, maybe he and I would have met in some other way, at some other time.”

“I would certainly like to think so.” The words came from behind him, in that quietly amused voice he was intimately familiar with. Nys turned around and came to face to face with Halen, who stood a few feet away.

He was even lovelier up close, the fading light adding an air of mystery to him. Pale and perfect, he might just have been an apparition in the night.

It felt disconcertingly natural to fold Halen into his arms and lock their lips slow, sweet kiss. The taste of him, no less heady for all its familiarity, chased away the irritation of the night and the weight of his own depressing thoughts until only the pleasant press of bodies and teasing dance of tongues remained.

“What are you doing here?” Nys managed to ask in between kisses, trailing his mouth along Halen’s smooth jaw. “It’s your sister’s wedding, you’ll be missed.” Perhaps the way he just held Halen tighter was in conflict with his words but what did Nys care? It’s not as if he had any desire whatsoever to lose this man to the suffocating crowd inside.

“The bride herself has granted me leave,” Halen replied, his voice as warm as his breath, “She concluded, rightfully so, that I would be much happier out here with you.”

Nys tried and failed to ignore the way that made his heart skip a beat, and compensated for the overwhelming emotion in the way he always did, pulling Halen back into a kiss, harder and deeper than the first. It was strangely satisfying to bite at Halen’s knowing smile and feel it turn into shuddering gasps.

They didn’t advance much further than some helpless frottage there in the open, courtesy of the fragile remnants of decorum that they possessed, or rather, that _Halen_ possessed, though Nys thought he deserved some credit for not pushing even when he knew that a well-placed touch or two would push past his lover’s reservations. They finally ended up on the ground, their backs against the fountain’s pedestal. They sides were flush together, their hands interlocked on Halen’s thighs as they sought to calm their breathing and the rather persistent evidence of their arousal. The statue of a lovely nymph woman stood silent watch over them.

It was all so disgustingly romantic that Nys felt like hiding his face against Halen’s very inviting chest to hide from himself. A distinctly amused voice in his head called him a hypocrite and was diligently ignored. After all, hearing voices was never a good thing as King Chael III had proved beyond all doubt.

“I wish it could be us one day,” Halen murmured out of the blue, not meeting the startled glance Nys shot him. He was looking up at the sky instead, with a soft smile. The tender emotion in his voice left little doubt about what he was talking about.

“It’s a pipe dream.” Nys meant to sound dismissive but it came out wistful, the sharp longing that had taken him over during the vows making itself heard. “But a nice one,” he added only a little reluctantly. Halen’s hand tightened around his as he lifted their joined limbs to press fleeting kisses to each of Nys’s knuckles. Pleasant warmth bloomed on his face and Nys realized that he was blushing, the painfully gentle gesture a greater intimacy that any of their naked tumbles.

“I love you,” Nys breathed, turning to place his mouth by the other’s ear. “I know I do not say that enough, but I do love you so very much. And if it were possible for us to marry, you need only have snapped your fingers and I would have been at the altar.”

The kiss that followed was a brief brush of closed, smiling lips.

“Who says we cannot?” Halen said, face pressed to Nys’s neck, his breath hot on bared skin. The question didn’t quite register at first but when their meaning penetrated past the initial confusion, Nys could only lurch away from Halen and shoot him a look that was part-hurt and part-reproach.

“The _world_ , Halen.”

“Then the world doesn’t need to know.” There was an odd smile on Halen’s face, as if he were privy to some secret joke. He rose to his feet and leaned down to tug Nys up. Nys went willingly enough, still bemused and frowning. His bewilderment climbed when Halen gracefully sank to his knees before him, head titled up and grinning widely, and turned into outright horror as he realized what his lover intended.

“Nys Veraci, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”

And all of a sudden, Nys couldn’t breathe. “What are you doing?”

“Proposing marriage.”

“We can’t-”

“Of course we can. Not in the eyes of law or society, but why seek their validation now, when our entire relationship has been ours alone?” He took Nys’s right hand in both of his, holding it reverently. “So I ask again. Nys, will you marry me?”

Nys opened his mouth in instinctual protest but what slipped out in its place was a muted ‘Yes’ and the blinding delight on Halen’s visage was nearly enough to shatter his misgivings. Nearly. It was one thing to pursue a clandestine affair with and then fall hopelessly in love with a man he should have left well alone in the first place. It was another thing entirely to bastardize one of Berendra’s most sacred rituals in this manner. And yet…

And yet, part of Nys was filled with breathless anticipation as he watched Halen rise to his feet with a look that was equal parts satisfaction and determination. He slipped off his personal ring from his forefinger, a little thing that was not as gaudy as most such rings were. Nys’s own was a discreet silver band with an open eye etched on it.

“We can’t wear proper wedding rings. These seem like the next best option?” He trailed off a little towards the end, turning the statement into a hesitant query. Nys could only smile, a little amused, a little frantic. Refusing wasn’t truly an option by this point, mainly because he really did not wish to.

“People might notice.”

“Let them. They can only speculate.”

For the first and last time in life, Nys didn’t care about the Order or what consequences there might be if they found out. He merely nodded, holding out his hand for Halen to take.

_With this ring, I thee wed and with it I bestow all of the treasures of my mind, heart and body._

It slid smoothly onto his ring finger, a little too snug but the discomfort was ignored in favor of the thrill that shot through him at the unwavering promise of Halen’s vows.

_With this ring, I thee wed and with all I am and all I have, I honor you._

Nys took the silver ring from his finger and stared at it with unseeing eyes for a long moment. His hands trembled as he gently mimicked the motion, holding Halen’s hand as if it were the greatest of treasures.

_With this ring, I pledge my love and my life to you._

His voice didn’t quiver as he repeated the vows but he tasted salt on his lips.

_All that I am, I give to you._

Then he tasted only Halen as a kiss sealed the contract.

 

And it was thus on a cool summer evening, dressed in ruffled court clothes, that Halen Tanae and Nys Veraci pledged themselves to each other, the only witness to their union a closed pair of marble eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Copied the vows off the internet- I’m not that poetic.


	5. Love Will Not Save You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The arrangements were relatively easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAND DONE!! This chapter is the longest and it is very…odd. The writing changes a wee bit towards the end, with good reason. You’ll know why when you get there.
> 
> I somehow managed to forget my fictionpress password so this chapter is posted only here for now.

The arrangements were relatively easy.

Nys had been hinting at a break for some time now, from the moment the bare bones of a plan had been conceived. Halen had been all too receptive to it, volunteering his little cottage in the countryside, knowing that the secluded little place would fit both their tastes better than ostentatious mansions. And if he found Nys’s insistence that they leave as soon as possible odd, he did not remark upon it.

There was some delay on account of Halen’s duties but from what Nys heard, the king had seemed almost eager to release his cousin, probably owing to the fact that Halen had not taken anything that could be called a break in seven years of service. In the end, they were out of the Capital and headed towards the countryside a mere six days after that final meeting with Mother.

The journey was pleasant, just the two of them on horseback. Nys had told his father of it, knowing that he would inform the Order and Mother would make the reasonable assumption that Nys would use this as an opportunity to fulfill his mission. Halen, for his part, had finally confessed the king of their relationship, even the impromptu marriage. While Nys cringed inside at the possible ramifications of that once this was all over, he displayed a happy, cheerful front as Halen detailed his cousin’s shock and outrage (at the secrecy) as well as his grudging approval (since Halen was happy) with uncharacteristic glee. In fact, Halen was inexplicably cheerful throughout the trip. He was hardly a morose person, least of all with Nys, but he was usually somber in public, always maintaining a quiet and dignified façade. But now, he was always smiling, even at the village inns they stopped at to rest and refresh their supplies.

Caught up in his own troubled musings, Nys didn’t have the energy to be anything other than appreciative of Halen’s newfound cheer (at least he could see him happy, just for a little while, before-) and did not even realize anything was the matter until one late night conversation.

“Nys?”                                                                            

“Hm?”

“You… are safe, in your estate, aren’t you? You are protected?”

“I suppose so. It’s as secure as any noble’s house and Father is not one to take chances. Why?”

“It’s nothing. No, that is a lie. It is most definitely not nothing but I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to reveal much. All I can say is that there might be some danger to a certain matter I’m pursuing, and I’m sure it won’t amount to anything but just in case, I wanted to ensure you would be safe.”

A long beat and then, “You aren’t going to tell me anything else, are you?”

“I can’t, I-”

“Very well then. Just promise me you will be safe.”

“I will try, of course, but-”

“No ‘but’s and no ‘try’s. You will be safe. Promise me.”

“Nys…”

“ _Halen_.”

“I promise.”

It had been a reluctant and confused promise but Nys would take it.

In a way, it was gratifying to know that Halen was at least aware of the risks of prodding at the Order. But all things considered, his concern made Nys want to laugh and laugh and laugh until he screamed. Nys appreciated the irony of it. He truly did- he had to, otherwise, he just might break. And perhaps it was unfair to use the situation out to extract such a promise out of Halen but Nys had never played fair, and Halen could hate him for it all he wanted later, once everything was over.

If Halen found Nys’s rather blasé acceptance of the danger to his life and the abruptness of his ensuing demand odd, he did not comment upon it. By the next morning, they were acting as they had before, the previous night not forgotten but intentionally pushed aside in favor of happier subjects.

They reached their destination in less than a fortnight, tired horses and their equally weary riders stumbling into the little stable just as the sun was retiring for the day. There were no servants there- Nys had insisted, for privacy he’d said and though hesitant, Halen had hardly argued- but Nys was fully capable of caring for a couple of horses and it wasn’t long before he and Halen were happily huddled in front of the fireplace, soaking up the blissful warmth.

It was with his head resting on Halen’s shoulders that Nys took his first proper look at the cottage. It was far smaller than Nys had expected and pleasantly so. A cozy little place, fit to hold maybe three people without getting crowded. It had a quaint appeal to it.

“This is nice,” Nys murmured, scooting a little closer to Halen, smiling when thin arms tightened around him.

“And small. I think the servants’ quarters is larger.”

“Servants’ quarters? Where?”

“Some distance away. Closer to the village. What, you think the cottage keeps itself so neat and stocked?”

“Hush, I’m too sleepy to think.” As if to emphasize the point, a yawn chose that moment to nearly split his face in two. He smiled as Halen’s laugh was cut off by an answering yawn. “Bed?”

“Shouldn’t we eat first?” Halen sounded nearly as tired as Nys did.

“Sleep first. Food… later.”

Nys wasn’t entirely sure how he made it to the bedroom with its disproportionately huge bed. Halen couldn’t have carried him, dragged maybe, or maybe they both just staggered in like a couple of drunken sailors. It was all so strange and wonderful after the unrelenting stress of the last few months.

It was nice not to think for some time.

He was out before he hit the mattress.

†

 _More than anything, I wish things were different. I wish_ I _was different._

†

He woke up hungry, in more ways than one.

Sometime during the night, he’d managed to splay out atop Halen, ending up in a messy but comfortable tangle of limbs. Nys pried open his eyes with great effort and found himself with an eyeful of Halen’s hair, the typically fine strands grimy from travel and knotted from sleep. In truth, he was in no hurry to get up. The room was somewhat cold and Halen was pleasantly warm. But _somehow_ , during their unconscious cuddling, their groins had ended up pressed tight together, leading to a familiar and rather insistent stirring down below. Nys gently rocked his hips into Halen’s, the motion almost involuntary. He could have slipped back into sleep like that, absently chasing the sweet pleasure, had his partner not chosen that moment to wake, his smaller body stirring and stretching under Nys.

He was unceremoniously shoved off Halen but his protest at the loss was cut off when Halen pressed right back against him, giving him a drowsy smile that contrasted rather sharply with the way he very deliberately pressed his hard cock against Nys’s, their clothing a unfortunate hindrance that was clumsily and enthusiastically removed by Halen while Nys just lay there and reaped the profits.

And it was quite the profit. Halen was a glorious sight to his admittedly biased eyes, straddling Nys and stroking their aligned shafts with long, lazy pulls. Nys arched into the touch, one hand fisted on the sheets and the other fondly caressing whatever part of Halen he could reach, his face, neck, chest, with a subtle reverence born of his persistent awareness of the approaching end. Sleep fled him entirely as pure sensation grabbed hold; Halen’s pulsing cock hot against his own, the firm strokes and tight fist, the knowing touches that teased and tormented until Nys had abandoned all decorum in favor of writhing on the bed and begging without words for release. A clever twist at the head, a hint of nail at the slit and Nys was lost, eyes rolling back and jaw clamming shut as he rode out his climax with desperate jerks of his hips. Halen kept going, his strokes harder and faster, and Nys was whimpering, a hairbreadth away from pleading for mercy, when Halen came, fresh rivulets of white joining the mess on their bodies.

Halen slid off Nys and onto the bed, panting with his face pressed to the sheets. Nys buried a hand in his lover’s messy hair and valiantly attempted to catch his own breath.

Finally, after long moments of satiated silence had passed, he tugged gently at Halen.

“I’m hungry.”

Halen deigned to raise his head with an unimpressed glare. Nys grinned at him.

“You are cooking.”

“Of course. Do you even know how to?”

Halen’s mute stare was all the answer he needed.

†

_Would you miss me, Halen?_

†

After a somewhat late breakfast, they left for the village. They passed the building that housed the servants on the way- Halen had been right, it was bigger than the cottage- and stopped there briefly. Nys felt strangely gratified at seeing the affection and respect with which they treated Halen, and the genuine warmth which he responded. It was a side of his lover that was rarely displayed in public. But then, these villagers under his employment were probably far safer than the pit of vipers back at the Capital. It was quite impressive, the drastic diffrence between Halen’s two personas; the stoic, ruthless nobleman who played double-edged dances of court life with ease and the sweet polite man who came out to those he loved and trusted.

It reminded Nys of his own double life.

At the village, they encountered a similar reception. It was a small place, the sort where everyone knew everyone else, and it seemed like Halen was nearly one of them. Stooping elders to children old enough remember his last visit called out his name as they rode in. Nys raised an eyebrow at Halen who just shrugged in response, a light blush dusting his cheeks. The moment they dismounted, they were by surrounded by a crowd that kept a polite distance but nevertheless trapped them, or rather Halen, in a circle of effusive greetings and enquiries. Nys felt like something of a spectator as he stuck close to the horses and observed Halen interacting with them, all smiles and charm. He seemed to remember nearly all of their names.

They didn’t stay long, just long enough for Halen to do mingle and eat their lunch at the sole inn in the place.

“I apologize for that. I didn’t expect them to be so enthusiastic. I imagine it’s because I have not visited in so long.”

Nys plastered on a smile that he hoped didn’t appear as fake as it felt. There was a heaviness in his chest, nothing new, but this time the reason was different from the usual.

“It’s fine. I’m glad they care so much for you.”

And he was, honestly, but the delight was tempered by a good dose of bitterness, not at Halen but at himself. If Halen were to die, how many people would miss him, mourn him? He had his family, his friends, his servants, and now, an entire village, all of whom clearly loved him and would keenly feel his loss.

Who did Nys have?

His father? Lorai Rynn may care for Nys in his own way but the Order was his first and only true love. The Mother would shun Nys the instant she learned of his betrayal and Lorai would follow suit.

There was no one else in his life- no friends, no family, not even a damned pet. Just Halen.

And even Halen might resent him if he learned the truth.      

His morose musing came to an abrupt halt as he noticed the unfamiliar path they were travelling. He had been blindly following Halen, assuming they were headed back to the cottage. The bare, grassy plains all looked similar to an extent but Nys was quite sure this was not the way they’d come.

“Halen? Where are we going?”

Halen winked at Nys over his shoulder. “There’s something I want to show you.”

Well that wasn’t vague in the least.

They rode on. Nys’s earlier line of thought hovered at the edge of his mind but curiosity was stronger. He alternated between watching the landscape, the monotony of it pleasantly mind-numbing, and Halen’s back, which made a pleasant sight for very different reasons.

His interest was just beginning to morph into impatience when a treeline appeared ahead, jarring in their discrepancy with the seemingly endless fields. And sure enough, Halen was headed right towards it, urging his horse on as they neared. Nys kept pace and soon they were surrounded by towering tress as they carefully led their mounts through a barely visible path amidst the woods. They didn’t have to go far.

The clearing was neither big nor small, a roughly oval shaped niche surrounded by dark trees. Right in the middle was a lake, blindingly blue and breathtakingly beautiful against the backdrop of shades of green.

Nys wasn’t aware he had stopped to stare until Halen’s voice snapped him out of it.

“Lovely, isn’t it?”

He tore his eyes away to look at his lover who was ignoring the view in favor of Nys, smiling fondly. Nys nodded wordlessly and followed Halen into the clearing. They dismounted, and walked together towards the lake. He felt Halen’s fingers brush his and seized them, twining their hands together.

“My brother brought me here when we were children, the summer before he died. This place is the major reason why I never sold off the cottage despite its less than ideal placement. Mother liked the seclusion it offered, and Father kept it solely for her sake. I was advised to sell it when I inherited.” Halen’s gaze was fixed at some point no eyes could see.

Nys knew a little of Halen’ deceased older brother, Nilan, who had died at the age of thirteen from illness. Halen must have been ten then, and Vellys two. Halen didn’t speak of him much, save for a few passing mentions that were more accidental than deliberate. He always looked pained after.

Not now, though. Now, he was smiling, a faint, almost unconscious curve of his mouth that made him appear oddly vulnerable.

“You are the only person I’ve brought here. Not even Vellys.”

Nys didn’t say anything, just pressed his side against Halen’ and let go of his hand to wrap it around him instead. Halen returned the gesture, holding Nys tight against him. He felt safe and warm and loved, standing there with his lover in companionable silence.

They eventually ended up sprawled on the grass, Halen dozing with his head on Nys’s chest. Nys stroked his feathery hair with one gentle hand, the other spread out to dip in the water. His unofficial wedding ring gleamed gold, a symbol of things too sacred to name.

Nys allowed himself a bittersweet sting of pleasure. He’d been a fool before. _Of course_ he would be missed. Halen would mourn him, whether or not he hated Nys.

And he could live with that.

†

_I love you. I’m sorry._

†

They had two weeks before they had to return to the Capital. Just as they had not left together, instead meeting at the city gates, they would not return together. The plan was to ride together till Jadtha, an inconspicuous town that was conveniently close to the capital city. Nys would stay there for a couple of days whereas Halen would continue on. It was hardly the most secure plan on the earth but they were only trying to hide an affair, not high treason. Nys thought that if it weren’t for Halen’s budding apprehension over the Order business, he would have insisted that they return together. Picturing that made him smile. It would have been nice, and even possible in another life.

Of course, none of it was going to happen that way. They were not going to leave the countryside together, there would be no stop at Jadtha and if everything went to plan, neither of them would see Berendra’s Capital ever again.

These days were the calm before the storm, and Nys intended to enjoy it with all his heart until the moment he couldn’t.

They didn’t leave the cottage much, save for the occasional trip to Halen’s lake. Mostly, they made love, with both words and bodies, and talked about everything and nothing. They laughed and smiled and loved. It was perfect, nearly dreamlike, and Nys never once forgot that this serenity was temporary. The illusion would break soon enough and the truth would emerge in all its requisite ugliness.

He was surprised to find that he was afraid. Not overtly and certainly not severely enough to make him reconsider for even a second but even after years spent living the sort of life he had, the looming certainty of the end was discomfiting to say the least. He was so used to seeing his death only as a vague possibility. To deliberately walk right into it went against everything he practiced.

He repeatedly told himself that it was a fitting sacrifice for love, and found himself on the verge of laughter each time. He was sure though, that it was a fitting penance for his lies.

Though he tried to keep his macabre thoughts from affecting his demeanor, it came through at times in flashes of frantic desperation; of holding Halen too tight, of kisses that tasted of tears, of laughter that rang hollow- Halen was no one’s fool and Nys knew he knew something was not right. But all he did was hold Nys closer and drive away the fear, however temporarily.

The days passed by too fast, as they were wont to do when one needed them to _last_. Before he knew it, the penultimate day of their stay was upon them. Nys had the odd feeling that both a lifetime and a mere instant had passed since he first set eyes on the little cottage that had become their home in this short time.

Conveniently, Halen rode off shortly after dawn to say farewell to the villagers. Nys declined to accompany him, saying truthfully that his presence would only make matters awkward. It was Halen they adored, after all. And they deserved a chance to see him one final time.

For an indefinable amount of time after Halen left, Nys did nothing. He sat on their bed and stared at nothing, his mind blissfully blank of everything. He paid loving attention to his body, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the steady thumping of his heart, the simple sensations that one usually took for granted- and felt inexplicably fond of life, his own and of others, despite the ease with which he’d snuffed out many with little hesitation. Despite the ease with which he intended to snuff out his own.

After all, only one life truly mattered anymore, and it was not his.

It was easier than he had imagined, downing a mouthful of the small vial of poison he had hidden in the bed on their first day here. Hardly a secure hideaway but maybe a part of him had been hoping Halen would find it and ask, that this pretence would shatter before it was meant to.

Ah well. Too late now. Nys laughed.

It was a neat little thing, this poison. One of his own creations. His masterpiece, really. It granted a sweet, easy death, slow without being torturous. With a normal dose, it took about three hours for the victim to die. The first was largely free of any symptoms, save some giddiness akin to inebriation. Lethargy would start to set in after the hour, growing stronger until the victim was tired to the point of immobility. Cognitive capability would begin deteriorating roughly after two hours, leading to a dream-like haze at the end of which awaited eternal sleep. Peaceful, all things considered.

Nys had risked his skin quite a few times to witness the effect firsthand on his targets. He recalled it all vividly. He could even remember thinking, after the first one had succumbed, that it was a way in which he wouldn’t mind dying. It seemed that the gods had an odd sense of humor.  
  
He had timed it well. Only moments after he felt the effects really take hold on him, he heard the sound of hooves, Halen returning from his trip. Nys lounged on their bed, waiting, smiling too widely. The fear was gone now, vanished as if it had never been. He knew it was because of the poison but he didn’t care. He was feeling good, free and weightless in a way he hadn’t been for months, maybe years.

Halen came in and Nys watched placidly as his lover’s greeting smile morphed into an expression of puzzlement.

“Nys…?”

“Halen.”

“What- is something the matter?”

“Something is always the matter, my dear. And some things have been the matter with us for quite some time, I’d say.” Nys softened his knife-edged smile and held out a hand to Halen. “Sit by me. We need to talk.” Before Nys grew too tired to speak. They had enough time, if just barely, but some topics could get out of hand when discussed.

Halen looked as confused as ever but he obediently sat down, resting his hand on Nys’s head and carding his fingers through messy curls. The automatic gesture warmed Nys and he leaned into the touch.

“Wonderful man,” he whispered, not looking at Halen. “How could I ever not love you?”

Despite the gentle words, something in his tone must have alarmed Halen for he made an odd noise and leaned back to really look at Nys.

“You’re scaring me, Nys.”

Nys just raised an eyebrow. “I would say that the fear is somewhat delayed. You needn’t be. I would never harm you, though gods know all would be easier if I could.”

“What in-”

“I’m curious. Why did you start seeking the Order of the Silver Serpent? And where did you even hear of us?”

“ _Us_?” It was not often that he saw Halen so shocked, considering how mild his reactions usually were especially in public. It was rather amusing though Nys retained enough of his senses to know that he had to soldier on before Halen drew the entirely wrong conclusions.

“Yes. Us. Don’t look at me like that, Halen. Our relationship had nothing to do with the Order.”

Halen continued to look at him like that, as if he had never seen Nys before. The bright green eyes he so loved were dark with pain. Nys waded through the haze on this mind to dredge up some of the panic he should be feeling.

“Halen,” he implored softly, “Trust me. I would never betray you. I did not even know until recently that you were investigating us.”

Nys had always viewed Halen’s blank composure in the face of matters that would drive Nys into seething rage as something quite remarkable, if a bit unnerving. It was a useful skill for a politician, and Nys knew that Halen’s outward mask hid a heart that felt as vehemently as any other. He also knew that it was only with those whom he trusted that Halen truly showed his emotions.

That’s why it hurt so much in spite of the pleasant fog in his mind to see Halen look at him with a dispassionate expression.

“I love you,” Nys whispered, a hint of a plea in his words.

“And I thought I loved you. But clearly, I never even knew you.” There was no inflection whatsoever in Halen’s voice and anyone would be excused for believing he was just that cold. Nys knew better, knew that Halen was screaming inside. Not that it mattered. All things considered, it would be best if Halen hated him, for his own sake. Nys was selfish enough to wish otherwise but there wasn’t a whole lot he could do at this point.

“No, I suppose you didn’t.” It was mostly a lie. The parts of him Halen knew were the best, the truest of him but-

Relationships didn’t work that way, did they?

Halen shuddered once and he snatched his hand away from Nys as if burned. His voice, when he next spoke, was colder than ice.

“Lord Nys Vercai, in the name of the King and the Crown, I-”

Nys burst out laughing, unceremoniously interrupting the impromptu command. He couldn’t help it, the situation was just that ridiculous. Here he was, dying, trying to save Halen, and his dear, sweet advisor just wanted to continue his pet project of an investigation. He felt moisture on his cheeks, realized he was crying and couldn’t decide whether or not it was from the laughter.

What Halen intended to do after evoking a royal arrest was a mystery to Nys. Had he been in his usual state, he could’ve killed Halen with ease. The words of a royal weren’t exactly synonymous to real, solid shackles. His lover must be in quite a state to act so impulsively.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Halen’s almost-shout startled Nys out of his laughter. So much for his lover being calm and collected. Halen so rarely swore, it was beyond odd to hear it.

Nys shook off his shock and considered the question. He knew he was acting quite atypically. He couldn’t help it and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. It was nice to not be afraid anymore. And Halen could certainly be forgiven for ignoring his initial concern regarding Nys’s odd state of being in favor of the revelation that had followed.

Looking Halen squarely in the eyes- was that the glimmer of tears he saw there?- Nys smiled, soft and somber.

“I’m dying, Halen.”

It was, he acknowledged, needlessly abrupt and cruel, but Nys was hurting, not from the lethal substances ravaging his body but from how Halen had closed off his emotions and presented to Nys that mask he so loathed. And then Halen made a _noise_ , indefinable and incomparable, and stared down at Nys with a look of such willful incomprehension that he felt his heart break all over again.

“No. _No_ , you are not.” Halen said, a little laugh contorting the final word. His eyes were ever so slightly mad. “No one’s dying, Nys.”

Nys reached with both hands and cupped Halen’s face, sitting up with some effort so he could look right at his lover.

“Yes, I- Sorry. I am sorry.” Halen didn’t move, didn’t seem to breath, just glared at Nys with suspiciously wet eyes. “I’m sorry,” Nys repeated, more gently, “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You are hurting me,” Halen replied, and this time, it was he who sounded as if he were pleading.

“I know, love. Trust me, I know.” Nys stroked his thumbs along Halen’s cheeks, smiling when his lashes fluttered at the action. It would be nice to just stay like that, to shut out all the gruesome realities for the little time they had left. But Nys couldn’t do that. He only had minutes before he would grow too tired to speak coherently. And he had to use that time wisely.

“Tomorrow morning, men will come here. They will escort you to Hyrania and stay with you until you’ve boarded a ship to one of the neighboring countries. I would suggest Lymene- they are the friendliest of the lot, and far away enough that the Order will not bother to hunt you if they were to find you. They will bring the papers for an adequate false identity along with them. Some clever disguise should ensure that no one will recognize you. My bag should have enough jewels to see you comfortably settled until you can find a job of some sort. Oh and don’t try to run off to Berendra after I’m dead. I have men positioned to intercept you and even if you made it past them, you’d be dead the instant you reached the Capital. The Order is nothing if not thorough.”

“After you’re…” Halen trailed off, eyes fixed on Nys with the same stunned disbelief they’d maintained while Nys rambled about his grand plan. No matter. He had a letter stashed here somewhere, written in painstaking detail. It would be of more help than that scattered speech anyway. Nys was finding it hard to concentrate.

And of course Halen had to latch onto the one thing that would bring only pain to them both. Not that Nys really blamed him.

“I am a long-standing, blindly loyal member of the Order. They would be willing to let you be as long there’s no danger of you sharing what you know with your king. Me? I can flee to the other end of the world and they’d give chase. Similarly, I’m dead if I return to Berendra without killing you.” Nys allowed his eyes to close, unwilling to see the expression that suddenly settled on Halen’s face as all the dots connected. “I’m not going to kill you, obviously. And I don’t _want_ to run away, even if it was an option. I suppose I could have returned and faced my punishment, but truth be told, I’m not too keen on getting tortured, particular since it would risk you as well. My way is better and I get to go out on my terms.”

“Nys.” There was naked distress in that single word, and desperation, so much of it. Nys understood, truly he did, but he did not open his eyes. Instead, he answered the question Halen would never ask.

“Poison. It’s painless. Far better than any of the alternatives.” And then he had to look at Halen because not to do so would be just unmitigated cruelty.

He was crying, which should have been no surprise, but startled Nys badly nonetheless. They were quiet tears, pouring down from wide, reddened eyes to trace wet trails down Halen’s too-pale face. His expression was frozen in a mask of horror and Nys couldn’t help but draw him close, to hold him tight with all the fear that lurked beneath the sheer haze of the poison. Slowly, Halen’s trembling hands returned the embrace.

Nys held him until the strength drained from his arms and he was resting his weight on Halen, who tightened his arms in response.

“Why?” Halen’s voice shook as he asked. He still didn’t let go of Nys, for which he was grateful.

“Didn’t I just tell you why?”

“Not that. Why not kill me? That would have been much simpler.”

Nys had to chuckle at that, though the sound was devoid of mirth. “Silly man. It wouldn’t have been simple at all.” Then, softer, “You know why, Halen.”

He said the name like a prayer, with loving reverence, but he wasn’t cruel enough to tell the other outright that Nys couldn’t kill him because he loved him. That was the sort of thing that could haunt a person for life. Already, it was a distinct possibility. But Nys wanted Halen to be happy one day. Someday, somewhere far way.

“Hey, Halen? Please… run. Live.” Halen just stared at him with heartbreak in his eyes.

“Where did you get the poison?”

Nys chuckled weakly, turning his face to burrow into the crook of Halen’s neck. He could feel the delicate trembling of his lover’s body, from rage or grief or shock, he was not sure. Perhaps some combination of it all. “I had it with me.”

“You planned this too then.”

There was no need of an answer to that but Nys couldn’t simply remain silent. Soon enough, he would cease speaking forever. The idea was deeply unpleasant. So Nys talked of things that had remained unsaid for far too long. “I think you were marked for death from the day you caught wind of the Order. I just didn’t want to admit it, not even to myself.” Halen’s trembling intensified. “Not that it would have helped either of us.”

“I’m sorry,” Nys almost missed the words, so softly were they spoken, harsh with suppressed emotion. “I am so very sorry, Nys.”

Halen wasn’t the first to regret ever crossing paths with the Order. In the past, Nys had never cared much either way. He did now.

“Not your fault. It’s none of our fault. Just the way things are.” Halen tensed like he would protest but he remained silent. Nys felt a hand creep into his hair, gently stroking his curls. “We had a good time together though, don’t you think?”

“Of course. Of course we did.”

Nys sighed wistfully. “It’s worth it then.”

Halen said something but Nys couldn’t hear, could only feel the shuddering breaths that wrecked his lover. Nys pressed soothing kisses to the skin under his lips and murmured Halen’s name, the two of them mutually helpless to offer any true comfort.

He could barely move anymore, and there was the faintest of aches in his muscles, rather like the soreness that followed some vigorous exercise. Not unpleasant, at least not to him. It seemed though that experiencing the affects of his poison was somewhat different that merely observing. Nys also suspected that he drank a little too much of it.

Nys made a confused noise of inquiry when Halen moved him, carefully laying him down on the bed. Halen placed a tender kiss on his forehead and Nys’s eyes fluttered close, a tear escaping one closed lid. He opened them when he felt the other shift-

\- and shouted in shock at what Halen held in one hand.

_You fool, Nys. You utter fool._

In Halen’s shaking grip was the remainder Nys’s poison, over half of the glass vial full with clear liquid.

With his mind clouded by the uncomfortable proximity of his end, Nys had forgotten to dispose of the bottle. And it would’ve been fine, an understandable error, in any other circumstance, but Nys _knew_ that look in Halen’s eyes, had seen it too many times regarding their secretive mess of a relationship.

“Don’t, Hal-” It was all Nys had time to shout before Halen swallowed the entirety of the vial’s contents.

_No._

“How long do I have? And you?”

_NO!_

Nys couldn’t speak, couldn’t even breathe. He stared, stunned, at Halen. Brilliant green eyes stared right back, weary and resigned.

“Please no,” Nys murmured weakly, too late to be heard and never meant to be heeded. A quick burst of hysterical laughter escaped him and Nys slumped back on the bed. He hadn’t even realized that he’d pushed his failing body into a half-sitting position. Halen had taken nearly double the required dose. There was no antidote. He had been working on it before everything got so fucked but well…

After everything he had done, everything he had sacrificed, Halen was going to die here. With Nys. He laughed again, an odd, choked noise, and turned his eyes away from Halen. Nys wanted to be angry, to let fury wash away the shock but his mind remained calm, strangely so. It was so ridiculous that Halen was going to- that he would- that he-

“An hour, maybe? For you. I had barely three but it won’t be long now. You took too much.”

The mattress dipped as Halen joined Nys, stretching out alongside him. He laid one arm across Nys, who did not deign to respond.

“That’s good. I don’t want to outlast you by much.”

Nys just blinked, gaze fixed on the ceiling. “The whole point of all this was for you to _live_.”

“How selfish of you.”

At that, Nys froze. Slowly, he turned his head towards Halen who had the audacity to _smile_ at him. Nys’s fingers twitched with the need to hit, to tear and draw blood. Pity he couldn’t quite move.

“What.”

“I’m not criticizing you, Nys. I won’t say I know what you sacrificed but I can imagine. And I am,” He paused there, drawing his brows together as if in confusion. “I am appalled that you were ever forced to make such a choice. And honored that you chose me. I am also, I believe, still somewhat shocked.”

Nys was sure he wasn’t the only one.

“The point of choosing you was your survival.” Nys couldn’t even muster the energy to sound indignant. Gods, he was tired.

“Silly man,” Halen smilingly echoed Nys’s earlier words. “You were willing to die for me. And you didn’t even consider that I would rather not live without you?”

Nys scoffed. “Not the same. You are-” He couldn’t say more than that because in the end, the fact remained that he had wanted Halen to live because it was Halen. No justification necessary. He was precious to Nys.

“As you are to me,” was all Halen said, as if he could read Nys’s mind.

Nys laboriously shifted to his side so that he lay face to face with his husband in all but name, embracing him as best he could. Halen was sweating profusely, his breath coming too fast. The shock of that much poison was probably too much for his body. He shook his head lightly, blinking rapidly.

“I feel very strange. My mind seems…”

“I know.” Nys brushed their lips together. “It won’t hurt, I promise.”

Halen smiled again. “I thought you would be angry.”

“I wanted to be. Can’t though.” He could barely think anymore.

“Ah.”

“Halen?” Nys called. His eyes had closed at some point and it was too much trouble to open them. But there was something very important he had to say before…

Before.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“As I love you. As I always will.”

Nys smiled.

“Wait for me, Nys.”

“Hmm.”

Nys slept.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I will delete this story in a few days.**  
>  (Edit: Actually no, I'll wait till I start uploading the novel version before deleting this)
> 
> Truth be told, I am not all that happy with the end result. I love this story verse and the characters but the hasty format I chose for this robbed me of an opportunity to develop things the way I wanted. I don’t regret it since this is a gift for the most important person in my life, but I am going to do a extensive rewrite. I’m gonna start from scrap on a novel-length version. The characters will be the same but no guarantee that the events will occur the same way. Same for the ending; it may change, for better or for worse.
> 
> Also, I know shit about actual poisons. If I decide to include them in the redux, I promise to conduct proper research (and then dance all over it with my ‘artistic license’ shoes).
> 
> Feedback, as always, is appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> As you might have guessed, this is a tragedy (well, Aristotle might disagree but then this ain’t a play…). That said, the story itself is surprisingly fluffy. Kinda. I have yet to finish the final chapter of this but I’m working on that. Updates will be every two weeks.
> 
> This is actually the ‘short’ version of the story, containing what is more or less the final arc with vignettes of how the relationship began. I will eventually write a novel version starting from the Order taking in Nys, and I may or may not change the ending depending on the development of the story.
> 
> Feedback is love! Feel free to point out any errors.


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